Captain Specter stared through his HUD at the crimson-eyed anomaly. "Interesting. This isn't standard rot," he whispered into the squad channel. "Keep the body intact if possible. The R&D boys back at Astra Command will want to slice this thing open."
"Copy that, Captain."
Facing a creature that could outrun a pounce, Specter didn't gamble. He tapped his tactical headset, activating the high-priority beacon. "Eagle Eye One and Two, abandon the high-perch. Converge on my mark. All nearby squads, this is Specter of Squad One. We have a confirmed Special Infected Entity at Grid 0-14. Requesting immediate containment support."
Specter knew the math. While the Void-Walkers were powerful, they were currently occupying Obsidian Vessels (Enderman bodies). Losing a vessel wasn't a resource catastrophe, but a casualty was a stain on the Battalion's honor—and a mission failure. More importantly, no one knew if this "Ravager" had hidden tricks.
Astra Command Hub: Tactical Theater
On the gargantuan curved main-screen, the feed from Specter's helmet camera zoomed and stabilized, occupying the center of the display. The Ravager was a blur of grey skin and twitching muscle.
"A Special Infected has entered the fray," Ethan said, his eyes narrowing. He turned to the Battlefield Coordinator. "Broadcast the beacon. Pull every squad within a five-kilometer radius. I want a cage around that coordinate."
"Understood, Director."
The Coordinator's fingers danced across the holographic interface. Orders hissed into the ears of every Shadow Blade Warrior in the sector.
"Squad Four: Blink 3km East."
"Squad Eleven: Blink 5km West."
"Squad Seven: Hold the South Exit. Total blockade."
"First Twenty Squads are on support," Ethan commanded. "The rest continue the urban purge."
WHOOSH. WHOOSH. WHOOSH.
Purple mist erupted throughout the ruins of the dead city. In under ten seconds, a hundred Void-Walkers—armed to the teeth with high-velocity firearms—materialized on rooftops, fire escapes, and street corners. They surrounded the Ravager like a hundred silent reapers.
Sensing the shift in the air, the Ravager let out a low, vibrating growl. It didn't hesitate. It lunged, becoming a streak of grey shadow aimed at the nearest warrior. Its talons, gleaming like polished obsidian, swept down in a lethal arc.
WHOOSH.
The warrior dissolved into violet smoke a millisecond before impact. The claws tore through empty air.
"OPEN FIRE!"
A hundred muzzles flashed. A wall of lead—dense enough to shred a Main Battle Tank—converged on the center of the street.
The Ravager's response was a nightmare of biological physics. It twisted, contorted, and sprinted with a bizarre, jagged footwork, weaving through the gaps in the lead curtain. Even in a saturated kill-zone, it was dodging the majority of the rounds.
"Careful!" Vanguard's voice crackled. "It's reacting to the sound of the triggers. Our Blink is fast, but it only takes a fraction of a second for it to close the gap. If it catches us mid-cooldown, it's over."
"Reset distance!" Specter roared. "Total perimeter shift!"
Without a heartbeat's delay, the hundred warriors blinked. They reappeared on high points within a one-kilometer radius—skyscrapers, overpasses, and billboards—re-establishing their sights from a safe distance.
"Sniper teams, prepare," Specter commanded. "Let's find its limit."
Forty specialized "Wraith-Pattern" snipers locked their crosshairs onto the twitching head of the Ravager.
"Fire."
THOOM.
Forty rounds—traveling at Mach 3 and trailing sonic spirals—screamed toward the target from forty different angles. It was a mathematical death trap.
Just as the rounds entered a hundred-meter radius, the Ravager moved. It didn't just dodge; it predicted. It accelerated into a blur, choosing the single point where the bullet trajectories were thinnest. It tore through the "Cage of Death" and bolted down the boulevard.
"It's breaking out!" a warrior shouted, blinking a kilometer ahead to set up a predictive intercept.
As the Ravager sprinted, a hail of assault rifle fire caught up to it. CLANG. CLANG. The creature swung its arm, its iron-hard talons swatting the supersonic rifle rounds out of the air like they were mere pebbles.
Specter's eyes burned with a cold, professional hunger. "Swatting bullets with bare hands? This isn't just a mutation. This is an evolution. Capture it! Use the stun-shrouds if you have to, but do not let that thing leave this block!"
Would you like to move to Chapter 27 to see if the Umbra-Wraiths can trap the Ravager using Redstone-enhanced technology?